Facade
by EmpressRulerofallthatiswierd
Summary: A mysterious, blue-haired, boy is wounded and ends up in the hands of the ghost crew. Will he learn to trust them? Will they learn who he is? Will he say something? Anything? Anything at all? Like one word, any word! Just say something!... Uumm as I was saying, will they be able to help him, or will his past destroy any hope he has left to live for?
1. Chapter 1

** FACADE**

DISCLAIMER: want to own it, but don't.

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 _"Well,"_ Ezra thought as he looked over the fields of Lothal below his tower, _"today is a new day... time to get to work."_ He went down his tower, hopped on his scooter, and headed toward town. The slowly rising sun sent rays of pink, purple, and orange across the sky, painting the new day with possibilities. the fresh air filled his lungs as he drove to the soothing rhythm of the road, making him relax ever so slightly. The air rushing past him whipped his blue hair and numbed his face and his mind. The ride and the stinging air made him forget the he was alone, trapped, striving to survive. He was so caught up in the nothingness of it all that he didn't even notice the dip in the ground right in front of him. Ezra hissed in surprise as the uneven ground made him jerk forward on his scooter. He came to a stop and sighed with annoyance as he slowly and carefully lifted up his shirt. There on his right side, through the clear gauze, he could see the wound that looked to be in the process of healing. Ezra gingerly touched the wound and bit his lip in pain, cringing at the memory of how he got that wound only days before.

FLASHBACK...

Ezra was running through the town's alleys panting as he was trying to escape his pursuers. _"Great just great,"_ Ezra thought as he jumped from wooden crates onto a roof, _"today of all days just had to be the day the Black Ice Dealer Gang came to town to, no doubt, steal supplies."_ Ezra was knocked out of his thoughts from shouts behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to see his shouting pursuers were quickly catching up to him. " _I need to lose these guys."_ Ezra thought as his eyes darted around frantically searching for a way to escape. Finally, he saw an opening in one of the rooftops ahead. He ran straight for it and just before he could get grabbed, he dove down the hole in the roof. Ezra rolled on the ground three times before stopping and dizzily getting up. _"_ _Ow... that's going to be a lovely bruise in the morning,_ _"_ he thought sarcastically while he lightly rubbed his arm.

Before Ezra could do anything more, his pursuers jump through the the same hole he used as an entrance. He was trapped in an abandoned warehouse with one of the most dangerous gangs on Lothal and worst of all there was no way out. Ezra slowly backed up from the group, his eyes darting back and forth looking for something anything to give him the upper hand. they advanced towards him matching each of his steps blocking any and every path, that could give him the slightest hope of getting away. He finally took one last step back only to hit a stack of cold, metal crates.

Now that Ezra wasn't running he was able to get a good look at his attackers. There were five of them all dressed in black with knives somewhere on their person. The three at the back of the group were the only ones who had blasters loosely secured on their belts ready to fire at a moments notice. They were pretty normal looking for a gang of teenage guys about to, more or less, make you wish that you had a broken leg, instead of being trapped in a warehouse with them about to get your butt kicked into the next system... yeah... they looked pretty normal.

One of the teens in the back who was obviously the leader stepped forward and began to speak.

"Well, well, well... looks like you are lost," his voice was laced with venom as he smiled wickedly, his cold brown eyes glimmering with malevolence under his blood red hair.

Ezra glared at the boy with spite in his blue, electrifying, eyes, never glancing away from him as the boy spoke. He knew what they were capable of and he was determined to give them as much trouble as possible.

The leader seemed slightly annoyed that Ezra did not react to his words, so he continued"I mean you must be lost, for you tried to steal the shipment we were after," he said shrugging his shoulders as if that was the only explanation. "I mean, you wouldn't dare try to steal the shipment we were stealing... now would you?" he asked with fake confusion, all the while slowly walking towards Ezra as he spoke. He came to a stop 5 feet away from Ezra and smiled savagely.

Ezra stayed silent never changing his determined expression, he stubbornly stood his ground in a fighting stance. He would not show fear and give them the pleasure of making him feel helpless.

The boy's eyes hardened in anger, he clenched his fists as fury coursed through his body, his rough dirty nails digging into his skin, his fists slightly shaking in frustration that he could not get emotional reaction from Ezra's face. The leader unclenched his fists slowly and he continued with anger "'you would be an idiot if that was your intention, every one knows that the Black Ice Dealer gang does not take kindly with weaklings who cause us trouble." with that the boy smiled wickedly and snap his fingers signaling the rest of the gang to make their move.

Ezra eyes widened as The gang lunged at him, he tried to dodge their attack but it was useless, they grabbed him by the arms forcing him to stumble to his knees. Ezra struggled in their grip, trying his best not to wince as their hands gripped his arms harder. He could feel the heat radiating off his skin were it was being held by callused hands. Ezra continued to struggle as they bound his hands and legs till he could no longer move even if he tried. His arms and legs ached from the uncomfortable position behind his back, the ropes rubbing up against his wrists made it even more uncomfortable as he squirmed.

The leader just smirked at Ezra on the ground as he made his way over to a bag on the ground. He rummaged in the bag, searching for his desired object. His face lit up with a vicious smile, when he found the object he was looking for. He pulled two items out of his bag and handed them to a member near by.

Ezra watched him, his face unmoving while on the inside his mind was running a million miles per hour, thoughts filled his mind torturing him with endless questions, whats in the bag? What are they going to do to him? Will he make it out alive? He snapped out of his thoughts and returned to observing what was happening around him. The leader had retrieved the item from the boy he had handed it to earlier, now Ezra could clearly see what it was, it was a syringe filled with neon green liquid.

The leader slowly approached Ezra, continually turning the syringe fondly in his hand as he moved closer to Ezra. He was enjoying the thought... no he was enjoying what was about to happen. He could see it running through his head, what this green drug was going to do. The Xylenium drug was his favorite of all drugs he used on his victims, how it made them helpless, the pain it cause, the horror on the face of his prey as the effects of the drug took place. He made sure they never forgot him, never caused him trouble or got in his way again. He loved the power, relished in the fear of his enemies, he broke them till they were nothing useless pathetic beings of existence. He made them believed it, the reminder he gave them of what they are so they will never forget. It could never be erased, it would follow them where ever they go and it would haunt them till the day they died.

Ezra eyed the liquid in fear, little beads of sweat formed on his brow from struggling with his bonds. He did not know what the liquid was or what it did, but he knew that it was not good. He glared as the leader approached, his intense blue eyes filled with hatred. Ezra did not flinch, he never blinked, he just sat there glaring, using his eyes as his voice to speak his scorn for them. He wanted to scream at them, tell them of his resentment for them, shout to them of how they would regret this, but he stayed silent. Silence was his greatest weapon, it has been his defense for years. Silence protected him from being caught, it kept all of his secrets locked away, his weaknesses, his pain, his strength, and his fear. Ezra knew that it would not fail him, it would protect his mind from all his foes. He had never spoken unless he needed to, because he knew that the eyes are the window to the soul, but the mouth is the door to the mind.

The leader bent down in front of Ezra and smiled with hostility. He held the syringe in front of Ezra's face eying it and running his fingers up and down it as he spoke in a low voice, " I'm going to mark you" he paused and looked Ezra in the eyes and then continued, his voice hard and cold "so you will know what you are, and what you will forever be."

Ezra eyes widened at these words, he knew what he meant and knew what was coming. To be marked was one of the most horrid and painful things in the world. It destroyed people physically and mentally, making them hate and be ashamed themselves so they didn't care anymore. Life wasn't worth living after being marked, it made you a target, an object to capture and break into a million pieces. It is torture to know that you are marked, if someone doesn't destroy you first, you destroy yourself. The knowledge is unbearable, you would search for peace and comfort, an escape of any kind but never find it. You start dying on the inside, sorrow and pain becomes your life, the only escape, is death. Ezra did not want to be marked, it would be a forever reminder of shame saying that he was, useless, weak, trash, nothing, and broken. It is the mark of victims of slavery, abuse, abandonment, and broken souls with no hope of freedom.

Ezra had no time to react before the needle was in his neck. His vision went red as he gasped from the sharp pain. His breath became ragged as the cold liquid entered his veins. His body began to tremble as the drug moved through his veins, freezing his blood. He wanted to move... do anything to stop, to make the pain go away, but his body wouldn't respond, his muscles only twitched in pain.

Ezra couldn't think straight, his mind was clouded. The world around him moved in and out of focus,the constant turning of the room was making Ezra nauseous. he could hear muffled sounds, as if some one was talking, but he couldn't understand it. it sounded as if he was under water, but that's not right, he in a warehouse wasn't he? He tried to move but he couldn't, his whole body hurt and his head ached from pulsing throbs. Ezra focused really hard and tried to remember what was going on. He remembered that he was running from something, he was sure it was someone, but could he be wrong? But the real question was... why had he been running? And why from someone? Ezra was confused by these thoughts when he remembered, it was as if lightning had struck, he was in danger! He needed to escape! And that's when the knife hit. His right side burst with pain, he screamed from the fiery torture in his flesh, his vision was red fading in and out of blackness. He could feel liquid on his side, it was sticky and warm. Ezra realized that the liquid was blood... his blood... the stench of blood filled the room suffocating his throat with the bitter taste. It was agony, the sharp blade slowly carved his side, ripping his soft, smooth, tender flesh. His lungs screamed for air, but were denied and replaced with screams. Ezra could feel hot tears run down his face mixing with the sweat from his brow, his once healthy skin was now a sickly white, making the blood pooling from his side stand out.

The leader smiled as he wiped the blood of the blade as looking proudly at his work. He had made sure to take his time in carving his art into Ezra's side. He had taken great pleasure in the raw screams of agony that had passed the boys lips. The blade had cut deeply, making the wound bleed profusely, the wound would defiantly scar into the shape he had cut. Fortunately for him but unfortunately for the boy the wound would not heal easily, especially if the boy moved around a lot. Another bonus was the wound would hurt for weeks maybe months if the wound opens. The boy would not forget him, he would never be able to forget this experience, he was sure of that. The leader now stood in front of Ezra, looking at the pathetic being in front of him, it was obvious that he was losing consciousness, so he leaned in close and said his parting words with a cold voice and then he left, without another word or look back.

Ezra squeezed his eyes tight, trying to block out the pain, he could tell that he was about to lose consciousness. he saw a blurry figure in front of his face, he would have squinted his eyes but it was too much effort, all he could do was look and listen. "Remember me and never forget what you are, you are nothing but trash and you always will be." Those words made his heart ache with sorrow, anger, and shame he didn't want to believe it, but...he knew they were true. These were his last thoughts before the world went black...

END OF FLASHBACK

AAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNDDDDDD ALSO END OF CHAPTER

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AUTHOR NOTE TIME :)

Hey so tell me what you think? This is my first fic so I would really appreciate any kind of feedback. Please criticize my work in detail so I can make it better. I apologies for any mistakes, and there will be a lot. If there is a sentence that does not make sense please let me know, I have Dyslexia and ADHD so I mix up sentences sometimes and I get easily distracted so I might make a mistake and not notice even if I double check, so please feel free to tell me where or how I could do better. Also any ideas are welcome. So sorry if this is super short, it just felt like a good place to end. There are some things that are not fully clear now but will be answered later. Sssssssooooooo tune in next time for

" THE ADVENTURES OF STAR WARS REBELS!"

oh wait wrong intro... oops... .. REDO. Tune in next time for

" CHAPTER 2 OF FACADE!"


	2. Chapter 2

Hey... I know what you all are thinking... why did it take so long to update... well im going to make it short and sweet... I was sick for 2 weeks, catching up on school, helping with my sis's wedding stuff, preparing for thanksgiving, and maybe a little procrastinating because I had been sick. I have a new respect for authors. Now that's out of the way, let's continue :) I hope you like this chapter and don't expect me to update very fast because of holidays and stuff. Also YAY me! My Birthday is coming up!... OK, chapter time.

DISCLAIMER!

Seriously, I do not own it... do i have to say that everytime for each chapter? Cause thats going to get old...really old.

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CHAPTER 2

END OF FLASHBACK...

Ezra shook the memory out of his head, now was not the time to think of such things. Right now he needed to do what he did every day... survive.

Ezra continued to check his wound, other than a little dirt and the slight beginning of an infection it seemed fine. If by fine you mean, really sore with nasty colorful bruises, then yeah it was just dandy.

Ezra grimaced as he made a mental note to clean his wound when he got back home to his tower. He couldn't let it become infected, if there was one thing Ezra had learned is that being sick was bad, but having an infection was worse. He could just use his emergency antibiotics, but Ezra didn't like to use those unless he was near death, and even then it was a long shot. He could just steal some, he stole almost everything he needed anyway, but medical supplies were hard to acquire on Lothal so it would be like looking for one person in every system, besides Ezra doubted he could get away with it in his condition. No Ezra was just going to have to clean it with water and hope for the best.

With that decided, Ezra pulled down his shirt and continued on his way towards the market. The ride was only thirty minutes, but it felt like an eternity, with every movement causing a little jolt of pain through his body and sweat forming on his brow from making his body work while it was weak. For anyone else it would have been pure torture, but Ezra had been through a lot doing what was neccesary to survive, so he could handle it. ...Yup, can definitely handle it... pain was just a part of his life.

Ezra finally made it to the outskirts of the market place and parked his scooter behind a building, making sure it was hidden from the prying eyes of others. He walked around until he was well inside the middle of the market. Stealthily creeping behind some buildings, Ezra slowly made his way to a short building he could easily climb. He started climbing on boxes, jumping from one to the other with practiced grace until he was in jumping distance of the roof. Ezra closed his eyes, took a deep breath, calming himself, and then stepped back and jumped. He landed in a crouch letting a small strangled gasp escape his lips as his side cried out in pain. "Too much!," Ezra thought while grasping his wounded side one-handed, still in a crouch, face contorting in pain as he panted. "That was definitely too high ... I...," a throbbing wave of pain washed over him as he tried to think clearly again, "I need to pick lower houses." Ezra slowly stood up, trying to ignore the pain and yet making sure not to make it worse. Once up, he slowly walked along the edge of the roofs, looking for a spot to watch and wait for an opportunity to snatch much needed food.

At that moment his stomach growled as if it understood the situation, declaring loudly in agreement of food being much needed. Ezra paused and touch his stomach as it growled " _Yeah yeah, I get it, you're hungry... well, I am too, so be patient. Do you want us to get caught and not get any food_?" He mentally argued with his stomach, getting no response, he sighed, walking over to lean against the edge overlooking some food venders. " _Wow_ ," he thought dryly, " _This a new crazy for me, now I'm arguing with my stomach._ "

He cracked a sad-amused smile at his little joke, as if it meant nothing, but in reality, he believed he was slowly going away. Leaving the world behind and just, in a manner of speaking, DYING... ...not physically of course, (but it wouldn't surprise him if he was). He felt like he was dying on the inside, as if it wasn't worth it anymore, and just losing his mind to a battle that cannot be won.

Everyday, death looked as if it was the best way to go, just sitting down and letting it come, or ending it himself and not waiting,... anything's better than dying at the hands of the Empire right? Yet, there's this slim sliver of hope inside of him, that kept him going, searching for the reason. Or maybe it wasn't hope at all, maybe it was just his stubbornness to prove to the empire he could survive without joining them, he really didn't know.

Ezra refocused his attention down again, looking at the vendors with sharp eyes, scanning for the opportunity that could make his risk worth all the effort. The vendors were still too close to their stalls, and even if one were to look away, it was still too iffy to be certain he could make a clean-cut get away. Upset, tired, and in pain, he put his head on his arms in resignation, willing the pain in his side and in his empty stomach to go away. He closed his eyes, not realizing they wouldn't be closed for long!

SOMEWHERE ON LOTHAL, WEEKS BEFORE ...

The Inquisitor stood with his hands behind his back, looking out a window on the Star Destroyer that was just about to take off and leave this dismal, pathetic planet. The force sensitive Pau'an did not understand why the empire would take any interest in this worthless planet, it had no value worth pursuing besides the mines and open spaces. What could possibly be valuable ... on ... this ... ? The Inquisitor never finished that thought as he found something much more interesting.

Now any normal person would never notice him, and even the Inquisitor almost missed him, but in that simple moment, something so simple that it shouldn't have mattered and should have never changed life so drastically, but it did. A child in the distance, no older than 15, was running from some storm troopers and dodging their blaster fire with amazing grace and precision. Now many people can do this with enough experience, but, what caught the dark side user's attention was when this child jumped up onto a high roof, no child should be able to jump that high without...!

The inquisitor ever so slightly smiled at his conclusion and, closing his piercing yellow eyes, reached out with his mind through the force to the young boy. If he was right, and this boy was force sensitive, then he may have just found an apprentice and a great new addition to the growing empire. At first the boy made no reaction, but then the boy stopped and held his head for a second, then slowly looked around until he stopped in the direction of the Inquisitor. This was all the inquisitor needed, and, never looking away, the gray Pau'an calmly said, "Agent Kallus."

A man, with mutton chops and a clean cut imperial uniform walked with relaxed military grace up to the inquisitor and replied with a short, formal, "Yes, sir."

The Inquisitor, never turning, lightly gestured with his head outside and asked with an even authoritative voice, "See that boy?" He waited a second for the agent to see , then continued commandingly, "Search the database, find out who he is, then bring him to me, Alive." It was not a just a request, but an order, and Kallus knew the Inquisitor would dispense a punishment he wouldn't forget if this order was not carried out.

Agent Kallus slightly raised an eyebrow, but he didn't inquire as to why the boy was wanted. He knew better than to ask the Dark Side user, instead he gave a curt nod answered with a "Yes sir", and left off to do his assigned task.

The boy was still staring, trying to see what it was that had caused him to look in this direction, but the Inquisitor knew the boy would not be able to see him in the ship so far away. Eventually the child just shrugged and continued on his way, traveling from rooftop to rooftop. The inquisitor watched with a slight smile until he was out of sight with only one thing on his mind, "This planet might not be so worthless after all."

TWO DAYS AFTER EZRA'S UNFORTUNATE ENCOUNTER WITH THE GANG...

Agent Kallus was annoyed, to say the least. He was stuck on the mission of finding this boy the Inquisitor was determined to locate. He should be doing more important tasks than looking for useless Lothrats, but the Inquisitor was a higher authority and Agent Kallus fell under his command, reluctantly. Agent Kallus had made little progress on finding the boy, which had certainly added to his bad mood! Ezra Bridger, as the data file had named him, was a child of 14, born exactly on Empire Day. There was little knowledge of the child and even rarer sightings of him, but from what little data he had gathered, he had found that the boy's parents had been taken 7 years ago, which would obviously explain why he was on the streets. There was no evidence of or even if he had been taken in by someone during that time, but it was most likely that he was alone at present.

Agent Kallus had sent out a notice to all storm troopers on Lothal to be on the lookout for the street rat, but even with the child's photo spread to all storm troopers and asking the citizens if they had seen him, he had no success in retrieving the boy, which was unusual for Agent Kallus, who was normally very efficient in his imperial duties.

Days passed, and with the inquisitor's powerful gaze always on his back, Agent Kallus was running on thin ice. With few options left, he turned to more... creative measures... by contacting Lothal's gangs and offered a reward for information on the boy. So far most of the gangs were unwilling to risk dealing with the empire, but finally, one of the gangs, the Black Ice Dealer Gang, had agreed to meet at a remote location, but at a cost. They were only willing to give the information if the empire would give them off-market supplies.

Normally Agent Kallus wouldn't think of making deals with gangs, let alone give them off-market supplies. The imperial Agent was not pleased that the gang had the boldness to make such a request. It was another statement to just how little control the empire had on Lothal, but that would change in due course. With much disdain on that thought, he had accepted the demand; which was why Agent Kallus was standing impatiently in the middle of nowhere waiting for the gang to arrive.

Agent Kallus had arranged a transport ship with supply crates aboard to take him and a squad of storm troopers to the coordinates the gang had sent them. The coordinates had brought them to a stack of rocks miles from any civilization where the gang would arrive to make the exchange just before sundown. They had been waiting for half an hour and still no sign of the gang; if they didn't show up, the whole expedition was a waste of time and resources.

A storm trooper from the transport ship Kallus had flown in to this desolate location walked up to Kallus, who had a sour look on his face. He stood there for a moment before hesitantly speaking. " Sir?" Agent Kallus did not answer so the soldier tried again a little more loudly. "Um, Sir?"

" Yes, what is it!" snapped the imperial agent. He was annoyed, the gang had not arrived yet and it was almost sundown and the first moon was already up in the sky. He did not have the patience to deal with this cowardly fool. The trooper, startled, slightly jerked in response before continuing. "It's been half an hour, Sir, and there is no sign of the informants... should we prepare to take off?"

Agent Kallus looked to the horizon with critical eyes, before answering sternly and decisively, "No, we wait till sundown, if they do not show up by then we'll take off, now get back to your post!" The soldier hurriedly walked back up the ship, not wanting to deal with a frustrated, angry Kallus. Agent Kallus once more scanned the surroundings for the gang.

Finally, just as the sun touched the horizon of Lothal, the gang emerged. They were five teenage boys all in black. The male in front was obviously the leader. His red hair shaded his brown eyes, but you could tell he was eager to do business. He walked straight up to the Imperial agent, giving a slight motion with his hand to have the others stand behind him.

Agent Kallus scowled slightly, all the trouble that was being put in to find one boy was getting ridiculous. Especially, since he now had to deal with troublesome gangs. He irritably said to the leader. "You're late."

The leader just smiled and answered cockily with "Well, I'm here, right? And if I understand correctly, we agreed to just before sundown." He pointed lightly with his hand at the setting sun, then smirked and crossed his arms before continuing. "We're on time, you were just a little... mmmm early."

The imperial Agent's eyes narrowed, glinting with animosity for this arrogant, daft boy, but no matter, the sooner he dealt with the foolish child the better. " I'll ignore your remark this time, boy!" He answered with a cool calm voice.

The leader frowned lightly at being called "boy", but quickly smiled again and spoke with a smooth voice, brown eyes shining in want and hunger. "Let's get down to business shall we, you have the reward?"

Shifting back to business; Agent Kallus answered cryptically. "Depends if the information is good."

The gang leader was not pleased with giving the information up first, but relented. "There's not much to know about him, he's smart, crafty, and stealthy. You'll probably find him around the market looking to make a steal, but you won't see him till he strikes for the unnoticed swipe of his target, that's when your best chance is," he explained seriously. Suddenly his seriousness turned to an amused smile while he said. "I hope your storm troopers are up for a lot of running, the kid's light on his feet and can make a swift exit from a bad situation."

Agent Kallus listened to all this information, mentally taking note of the new and old information and already planning his next move of attack. He would double the storm troopers in the market and wait for the Bridger Boy to come out in the open. The leader was saying something else about a lot of running, but Kallus ignored him, he had what he needed.

Agent Kallus turned his attention back to the red haired Leader in front of him, catching the last bits of what he was saying. "Now, about that reward," the leader said waiting expectantly with his arms crossed.

Agent Kallus answered while nodding. "I'll go tell them to bring it out." Turning with his hands behind his back, the Imperial Agent walked up to the ship, heading slowly up the ramp to the awaiting troops. He stopped at the top and turned his head to the trooper at his right by the empty crates, jerked his head back toward the young males waiting their payment, and said "Dispose of them!"

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AUTHOR NOTE:)

Well, I hope you like it. I put the Inquisitor in this because I think that he is an awesome villain and I think Disney shouldn't have killed him so fast and should have seen what else they could do with him. Also, I don't know if I already said this, but I will say it again just in case I haven't... no romance... period... also no Vader, Ahsoka (except as fulcrum) and no Rex. I will not be doing that. Anyway, tell me what you think. Give me ideas, analyse it, critique it... tell me how to make it better:) This is Empress, signing off.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey... please don't kill me... heh heh... i have a good exscuse for not updating... (spins wheel of explanation)... What! Tell them the truth! Thats insane!... sigh... the wheel has spoken... ok i already said in the last chapter not to expect an update because of the hoildays, wedding, and school... my case in point. anyway good news:) the wedding is almost here, also Merry Christmas! Happy New Year! and all that:) Before we go to the chapter I want to just say to my readers...WOW! You guys R awesome! And to the guest reviewer Alex, wow, man... i just don't know what to say except that I hope I continue not to disappoint, and I do not take earning your respect lightly. It truly makes me feel honored and really happy:) Also side note, I'm not totally against Love Stories, it just seems to me that the definition of love has been twisted so much throughout the years that, for me, it doesn't seem like most poeple get it right. But then again what do I know:) Anyhoo, chapter time!

DISCLAIMER.

Really, this again? I already said it and we're way past old now. Now its just ancient.

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FACADE

CHAPTER 3

BACK WITH EZRA IN THE PRESENT...

Ezra tried not to think while he waited with his head on his arms and eyes closed, but it was impossible. Thoughts swirled in his head, tormenting him, laughing at him, and accusing him. The thoughts always came, he tried to ignore them at first, but they were persistent and would not be ignored. Silence was what had brought them to life the first couple of times, slowly at first, but then with full force. At first he stayed where sound and noise of any kind could be heard during his expeditions for food, but that only lasted for so long. Soon the thoughts came when he wasn't doing anything, just coming whenever they pleased.

Ezra started keeping busy in any way possible, whether he was tinkering with something, studying movements of enemies, or learning a new fighting skill. He tried do it non-stop for as long as he could, but eventually the surroundings in his tower would grow quiet and he would need to sleep. Ezra would try to sleep when nothing was left to be done, but it would not come most nights. Instead he was visited by his demons that lay waiting in the dark corners of his mind.

The thoughts would grow louder till they had become voices of people he'd never met. They cursed at him, telling him of his failures, his mistakes, "that he was a mistake"... and they never relented. Ezra's heart had begged relief of any kind and he had found one. Oh how Ezra wished for relief now, to just go to his tower and use his only escape.

Ezra had only had his head on his arms, thoughts and emotions swirling, for a few minutes when he felt something... something odd... urging him to look up in a certain direction. Searching for the cause he looked up, using the undeniable urge to guide him to the source of it. At first he saw nothing, just the normal goings on of the market, then a man caught his eye and the urge stopped, and was replaced with a low humming of approval. The man was wearing a green-yellow shirt with a gun holster on his right side and armor on his right arm. His brown hair was pulled back into a short pony tail and he had a small goatee. This guy's demeanor screamed bounty hunter so much to Ezra that he might as well have carried a big sign saying I am a bounty hunter.

Suddenly, something screamed inside Ezra, warning him to duck and stay hidden. Following his instinct, Ezra ducked and slightly peeked over the edge. The man Ezra had dubbed a bounty hunter looked in his direction just seconds before he had ducked, but after a few moments of searching, the man just shrugged and continued on with his business. Ezra sighed with relief and watched cautiously as the man walked around. The bounty hunter stopped, his back to a person with unusually colorful armor, it looked mandalorian to Ezra, but he had never seen mandalorian armor with such unique and colorful design. "Must have been personalized," he thought, while watching them as they discretely patted their holsters in what looked to Ezra like a pattern, and then moved about.

Ezra watched as the bounty hunter moved again and repeated the action near a large, purple alien that Ezra could not identify, which only added to Ezra's curiosity and confusion, flooding his mind with questions. Why did this man catch his attention? Who are they? What are they doing? That's when he felt it, something was about to happen, he didn't know what, but the feeling was strong and growing stronger every second. Whatever it was, Ezra would be ready, so he steeled himself in preparation for what was to come. With luck, this would bring an opening that Ezra had waited for and would make the journey worth all the effort.

Ezra, on high alert and ready to spring into action, kept his attention sharp as the Mandolorian casually walked past some speeders towing crates, slyly tossing a round object with a red blinking light. Ezra had seen the imperials guarding the speeders and crates earlier when he first arrived at the market and had thought about going after the crates himself, but had dismissed the idea immediately. There were too many guards in the market, almost triple the usual amount, which meant triple the risk of getting caught. The imperials only tripled the guards on patrol when they suspected there was a wanted criminal on planet. The triple search and patrol protocol lasted 3-5 weeks time, depending on the notoriety of the criminal. It always made it harder for Ezra to get food and supplies when this happened and he eagerly awaited the end of the Empire's stupid extra search protocols.

A storm trooper near the speeder noticed the Mandolorian walk by and started toward the Mandolorian to redirect him away from the speeders, but was interrupted when an explosion flung him to the ground. Ezra stepped back in surprise from the force of the explosion, covering his face on instinct, making his side spazz painfully. The imperials were shouting to get the crates to safety and Ezra realized this was his chance. Following the speeders with the crates into an alley from the roof, he watched in anticipation as the man and alien took down the storm troopers one by one.

Ezra waited until they had just finished taking the troopers down, then he made his move. Bracing himself, Ezra jumped and used his left arm to swing from some pipes connecting into the buildings, trying to resist the instinct to use both arms. Ezra sucked in a sharp breath,... It hurt... it hurt sssoooo much. His left arm was stretched painfully from holding his weight and his right side was stinging in pain from moving his tender flesh in such exertion.

He landed roughly in the speeder's seat below the pipes, bruising even more of his already weakened body. His head was spinning, and for a minute Ezra thought he might throw up what little content he had in his stomach. His wound was spasming, shooting pain like electric shocks throughout his body. Ezra's vision was starting to blur and he could feel the edge of panic creeping in. If he passed out, he would get caught, and sooner or later someone would find the mark on him. That could not happen, not today, not ever! Death would be more merciful than what would happen if word got out that he was marked.

Taking a deep breath to clear his vision, Ezra calmed himself and took a quick look at the face of the bounty hunter as he started backing out of the alley, just barely ducking in time to miss the fist of the large and probably angry, given his expression, alien.

Ezra smirked, almost laughing as he zoomed through the streets, dodging people and stalls full of goods. The bounty hunters face was so full of surprise and shock that when Ezra had looked, he almost didn't make an escape and instead just stayed to watch with amusement. This was one of the benefits of Ezra's life. Something that gave him a small satisfaction. Tiny things, like the bounty hunter's expression, made the universe just a little easier to live in.

Ezra was half way through the market when the bounty hunter and alien came up behind him on speeders, followed closely by a pack of storm troopers slowly catching up. Blaster fire rang out as red bolts whizzed past Ezra and even with the bucketheads' bad aim, he was having a hard time avoiding the shots. One shot got so close that Ezra could feel the heat radiating off it and he just barely dodged it in time, but that dodge had a cost. If only he had seen it, then maybe he could of steered away in time, but with Ezra's head pounding blood in his ears and a slowed reaction time from his injury, luck was not on his side.

A stack of crates was in Ezra's way and he had tried to dodge to the left, but with no success, Ezra crashed right through the crates. Amazingly, Ezra still had control of the speeder, even when one crate had hit his head, but in the crash he had lost a crate from the back of the speeder. Ezra was so focused on steering and the loss of his crate, he didn't even notice the slow bleeding scrape on his right arm. Luckily, the crash had slowed the storm troopers tremendously and Ezra was almost to Lothal's plains. Unluckily, reinforcements were rallying with the slowed troopers and they would soon catch up.

Oddly enough the bounty hunter and alien were nowhere to be seen. Now, normally, this wouldn't be a concern, but every single trooper seemed to be after Ezra and only him. It seemed strange that half or even most of the troopers didn't split up and go after them, it just didn't make sense.

Ezra didn't ponder too long on it and continued heading to his tower. He was speeding across the plains when the worst possible thing happened. A tie fighter streaked across the sky, coming right for Ezra and he was an open target in the vast plains of Lothal. The tie fired, and hit his mark, sending Ezra hurtling away from the now exploding speeder. Ezra dizzily got up and watched with wide eyes as the Tie returned for another shot. Swooping ever so slightly for the perfect angle to make it a kill shot. Ezra didn't move, he even didn't blink, with his mind fogged, all he could do was breath heavily and watch as the tie fighter came straight at him with only one thought on his mind. Was this the end? Was he really going to die at the hands of the empire? After all he done to not die at their or anyone else's hands?

Just as the tie was in range, shots came out of nowhere and hit the tie! It exploded in a fiery burst! Ezra blinked in surprise, then turned in the direction the shots came from. There was a ship and on the open ramp, the bounty hunter Ezra had mocked in his head stood tall and proud. Ezra was almost starting to have respect for him... almost.

The bounty hunter smirked before saying "need a ride?" His face he might of looked kind of somber if he didn't have the obvious gleam of amusement in his eyes.

Ezra just looked at him thinking sarcastically " _You're kidding right? I've only got half the imperial army after me. Now if i had the whooollle army after me..."_ Ezra startled out of his sarcastic thought when a red bolt flew past his head. The storm troopers had caught up and a set of tie fighters were not far behind. " _Uh... never mind_ " he thought with annoyance, actually agreeing with the man's next words. "Kid, you have a better option?"

Turning around Ezra dashed as fast as he could, grabbing the crate, ignoring the man's shouts to leave it. He was not going to leave the crate, it had already been enough trouble and he wasn't going to just leave it behind and have all of this be for nothing.

The pain in his side had grown throughout this whole escapade with all his stunts. Jumping from a roof, crashing through a stack of crates at high speed, and of course being thrown from a speeder seconds before it exploded didn't help. Each stunt had caused his wound to stretch painfully and it would tremble from the tension after release, but even with fiery pain in his side Ezra refused to let up. So when Ezra reached the crate he didn't miss a beat, quickly turning on the anti-gravity he pushed it toward the ship, dodging shots from the ties that were now upon him.

He was almost in range, he just needed a to get a little closer, but he was so weak and running out of what little energy he had left. Ezra was starting to stumble and his vision was turning red with black blotches clouding his eyes. It didn't feel like it was worth it, he just wanted to stop, but as he took one last look at the ship with the bounty hunter staring at him with wide teal eyes, and the tie fighters closing in on him, he kept going. Ezra took a deep breath, gritting his teeth in determination and used some new found energy to put on a burst of speed.

Everything seemed to slow down and Ezra suddenly felt calm as a low hum tingled at the corner of his mind. Then picking up the crate he started to jump, and just as fast as it came, the hum left, and everything zoomed back into chaos. His wound! The tender flesh trying to heal was wrenching apart violently as he jumped. He wanted to scream, but didn't get the chance as his breath was knocked out of him, leaving him no air to cry out with. Ezra had smacked the crate onto the ramp, but he had slammed into the ramp's edge, causing him to remain silent in his seemingly endless pain.

Ezra struggled to hold onto the ramp as it closed, but the strain on his arms was tearing his wound and the burning pain was just too much. He could taste iron in his mouth which told him he was bleeding internally somewhere and he wanted to throw up from the horrible taste. His head pounded loudly, blocking out any sound from the world as he became lightheaded and his awareness started to drift away from him. Ezra's vision disappeared and his fingers slowly started to slip down the ramp, but Ezra was shocked back into alertness when a pair of hands grabbed the back of his orange jumpsuit and pulled him up.

* * *

AUTHOR NOTE.

That's the end:) And because I'm to lazy to write right now, go back and reread the end notes in the first and second chapters and you'll get the idea:) Till the next time!:):) God bless:) Empress is out, Peace.


	4. Chapter 4

hello! im back:) did you miss me?... NO?! well that hurts. anyway sorry it took me so long, i wouldve posted this sooner if i had just had my sis's wedding to deal with, which by the way was beautiful! and i totally didn't cry... ok i bawled, but thats not the point, the point is it was sweet. anyway the reason why i didn't is two days before the wedding i got this serious migrine, sound hurt, light hurt, and moving, of course and made me even more nauseous than i already was. thankful by prayer i was able to get through the wedding without a headache coming on really bad. but they continued after so i went to the docter theyve given me stuff for it and so far right now the stuff is working so alls good. and just to prove they were bad i will tell you this... i slept... druing the day... ok that might not seem like a big deal to you but if you knew me then you'd understand. you see i never sleep during the day, i just can't and the only time i do is when im sick and even then its not likely. ok enough of me blabbing, onto the story!

oh wait almost forgot, i just want to give a shout out to my dad who helps me with correcting my grammer, spelling, etc and also who gives me ideas of what could happen in the story... ok so i haven't used any, but i have when he's giving me ideas on how to word something im not sure about how to word. anyway I LOVE MY DAD 3 :)

God Bless

DISCLAIMER... the name says it all.

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FACADE

CHAPTER 4

Ezra blinked in shock, he wasn't falling to his death! Taking a small breath he regained his composure and looked up at the group of three in the unfamiliar cargo hold. They appeared to be completely ignoring him, much to his thanks, as he started mulling around his brain as to what had just happened. The bounty hunter had pulled him up! Why? He could have just let him fall to his death and keep the crate and its goods all for himself. What was he planning to do with him? Suddenly, Ezra started to panic. Thoughts were swirling around his brain trying to come up with a plausible answer, and the only one that he could think of... was... they were slave traders and he had just become their merchandise!

With that conclusion in his head, Ezra slowly and carefully stood up, gritting his teeth so as to not to cry out in pain and alert these strangers to his injury. Looking around he took in every detail of his threatening situation and analyzed the three adversaries that stood before him. Now that Ezra wasn't running he was able to a better look at these " insert stars wars cuss name", he could now tell that the mystery alien was a Lasat who was causally leaning against one wall of the ship, opposite of the Mando and bounty hunter examining the contents of the crate.

With the knowledge of exactly where his opponents stood, Ezra hesitantly walked up to the crate he taken such effort and risk to get. Ignoring the vigilant eyes that watched him, Ezra looked inside the crate and stared disheartened... guns... all that work for guns... all the waiting, all the pain, all the risk and for what?! Guns! Guns he couldn't even use right now! Why?! Why couldn't it have been food or medical supplies, anything to just get through this?! Normally, Ezra would've been ecstatic to have acquired such a find, but this time he was dismayed. Without the much needed food and medical supplies Ezra doubted he would make it the next few days to even get a chance to sell the guns on the black market. Heck, he didn't know if he would make it the next few hours if he didn't get off this ship and back to his tower in time to stop the bleeding in his side.

Ezra silently laughed in his head, of course he'd be the one person in this galaxy to finally get goods he so much sought after and would hope for, and not even be able to use them.

Ezra was about to pick up a gun when the Lasat slammed the lid shut over the crate and glared at him practically snarling. Ezra held his gaze undeterred and glared at him with every bit of tenacity he had in him. This was not the time to back down and show vulnerability. The bounty hunter just shrugged unconcernedly at the Lasat's behavior and motioned authoritatively to the Mando to follow him up the ladder before giving the Lasat a command "Zeb, keep an eye on our friend here."

Ezra ignored the two as they left and instead continued his glaring contest with the purple haired alien now dubbed "Zeb". He couldn't let on that he was injured, he had to keep up the act. If they knew he was injured then they would know he was weak and in poor condition. No, he couldn't give them that advantage if he wanted to any chance to escape. And, if they found out about his wound, that it was "The Mark", then he was really screwed.

Zeb growled menacingly at Ezra, showing his teeth, saying "don't try anything, kid" before roaming back over to the wall. Ezra didn't say anything, but clenched his fist in anger and annoyance as he watched Zeb go back to his spot and "keep an eye on him".

Ezra, still glaring his fury at Zeb, gingerly sat upon the crate and would of melted in relief of sitting down after the chase, were it not for his unwanted companion watching his every move. He tried to get comfortable, but it was impossible with his side screaming every time he moved. Giving up after only seconds of trying Ezra just crossed his arms and sat as straight as possible while looking at his guard in the eye. Right now his only defense against this "Zeb" was his eyes while he thought of a way out of this... if there was a way out.

The two eye's never left one another, but Ezra's mind was not with the alien he stared at, his mind was racing with panic of trying to escape and on his bleeding wound. He could feel the blood pooling inside of him and slowly leaking, along with any chance of escape, out his side into the clear gauze wrapped around him under his shirt. If Ezra was to pull his shirt up and look, he was sure he would see the gauze half soaked in crimson blood.

Every thought of his was slowly becoming muddled. His skin was burning up with a massive fever making thinking practically impossible. And the need to groan in pain was becoming harder to avoid every second. But he HAD to avoid it! They could NOT find out about "The Mark." "The Mark" was legendary throughout time and the universe. Every man alive feared the consequences of "The Mark."

Ezra tried his hardest to think of a way out, but there was no way to escape and make it back to the tower before he bled out. He was becoming light headed and the thoughts had come and taken control, taking him to off into his memories.

He thought about how it all started when his parents were taken away from him, leaving him alone. And soon after his parents, his home was ripped away from him as well, the place where he was always safe and the memories of love from his family stayed.

Ezra swallowed, his throat begging for water and stomach churning at the thoughts of losing his parents and home. He wanted the thoughts to go away, but they persisted and continued prodding his mind in the direction they wanted. They showed him of his life on the streets, everyday he had gone without food and had to go to bed with his stomach empty and growling in pain. All the nights he couldn't find shelter from the rain or cold and instead would continue trudging forward through it all.

Ezra finally gave up in defeat, letting the thoughts consume him and take him through the terrible depths of his life without any more resistance. The thoughts, in complete control, swirled till they took forms, whispering voices floating around at will, and threw him through deeper into his bitter past without remorse. Faces began appearing, fading out and then being replaced with others, all people who had taken pleasure in hurting him and watching him cry in pain, forcing him to struggle through unspeakable events.

Ezra started feeling cold as all these occurrences continued on and on through his mind, making the sweat upon his skin more noticeable then ever. He wanted to cry, but no tears would come, they had long run out years ago when he had found his release, his escape... his blade.

Ezra had come upon his escape by accident, he didn't know it would take over him and never let go. He had just been trying to get the thoughts... the voices...to go away; they just wouldn't stop and let him have the peace to sleep. They had started slowly get louder, telling him he was Useless, Trash, Street Scum and that he himself was the reason that everyday he goes through hell to survive. They tell him it's his fault no one will help him and that he's the reason why his parents were taken away,... because he wasn't strong enough to stop it from happening.

Finally, he had screamed, and had started destroying whatever was near him in his tower. Everything in sight was thrown and trashed, and in the next few moments Ezra had taken his knife and was stabbing the wall. That's when it happened, his next strike missed and had slashed his arm, instantly the voices stopped screaming and his head was cleared. His arm stung and blood was slowly running down arm, dripping quietly onto the floor. Ezra had stared at it for awhile, before he slowly lifted the knife and looked at it. Running his finger up and down the edge of the blade, he knew he had finally found way of relief... he had finally found an escape.

Ezra remembered the day all to well. The blade's way of escape became a ritual that he had to use more and more until almost every chance he got he would use his escape. Too many cuts while injured or sick could leave him never making another cut again and instead of taking that path, he tried to wait it out and suffer till the thoughts left on their own. But all too often he would he retreat into the escape of his blade, and relish in the peace while it lasted.

Even lost in the voices' torturous hold on him, Ezra knew he would pass out soon and there was nothing he could do about it. Suddenly, the voices stopped for a moment and were replaced with silence. Then one single voice whispered intensely in his mind, "you're gonna die... you ARE dying!" It was right and Ezra knew it too, no matter how much he hated to admit it.

The voice continued in a tone that seemed to be trying to reason with him, "why fight it? You know death is the better way, why try and continue to live? What do you have to live for? You have nothing, everything that was yours has been taken away. You have no one to go to, even if you did they wouldn't help you. You've been "Marked", and if that wasn't reason enough then all they'd have to do was see how pathetic you are. Why would you go back to a life of struggle when you can leave it all behind? All the pain, the hunger, the fear... it can be no more, if you just let go. Let death take you."

Ezra stopped breathing, it was right, the voices had always been right. Everything they had ever said was right. They were right about him, how he was nothing, why things were the way they were, and it was right about this. Everything he had, had been taken away from him, his parents, his home, and his way of life, he wasn't going to let anyone take away the last thing he has left, himself... his life. It's the last thing that is his and he's going to be the one to decide if he's going to take it away, not the Empire or anyone else, but him. If he died everything would be OK and if they found the mark after his death it wouldn't matter anymore, no one would be able to do anything to hurt him after death, not even these slavers.

After realizing these facts, Ezra finally gave in and let gravity pull him to the floor, his last thought before he blacked out was," at least I'm dying on my own terms."

* * *

SDRAWKCAB TLEPS ETON ROHTUA

well i hope you guys liked it, i tried to make it as real as possible on the cutting with the help of my dad who knew someone who went through that. he was able to make sure that it was as realistic as i could get it. also another shout out to my number one fan:) whose name i shall not say because its really long and im super lazy, so i will just tell them that i meant them... and now that i think about it it might of been easier just to say their name... oh well:) anyway reveiw, ask me questions on things you don't understand, point out my mistakes and so on. you probably get the gist:) Empress out.


	5. Chapter 5

It was a dark and stormy night... just kidding:) ok, yes its been 6 months and a week since i updated, yes i should of done this sooner, and yes, i don't have an excuse. To be honest i'm just glad i haven't given up, so what if it takes me forever to update, i'm just happy i'm still trying. and boy it was not easy. I redid this chapter seven different times and i'm still not completely happy with it, then again i'm not completely happy with the others either. but enough about that, thanks to my number one fan and my dad, i got this finished. so... i guess take a look and tell me what you think.

DISCLAIMER... whatever... it's been done in every fic, so who cares if i say something to make the Disclaimer interesting... on with the story...

* * *

FACADE

CHAPTER 5

Zeb felt a growl trying to crawl up his throat as he glared at the kid in an unspoken staring contest. Why he had to get stuck watching the Loth rat was beyond him, but the kid was a pain in his back side. It was bad enough the street rat had already caused trouble for the mission and now he had to babysit him too... While the others got to blast imperials. He could just imagine being behind a turret shooting storm troopers, of course its not as fun as bashing the bucket heads together, but right now he'd take anything to let off some steam.

The silence from the kid was... unnerving. He hadn't said a thing since he got on the ship and it looked like he hadn't moved since the minute he sat down, arms crossed and as still as a statue. The kid's eyes were even worse than the silence, the only way to describe the kid's blue eyes was... electrifying and... powerful. They kept boring into him, as if trying to drill a way to his soul. He wouldn't think it was possible for somebody's eyes to unsettle him so, but they did.

It seemed like the silence was going on for years, and the longer he stared at the kid, the more his eye's seem to grow bigger, taking up the whole room as if nothing else was there; making it harder and harder not to squirm from the intensity they held. It was just plain uncomfortable. He thought about looking away, but didn't want to back down from the challenge of dominance the kid was giving. Zeb did not like losing, and he did not like backing down from a challenge with anyone, especially a challenge from a child.

Zeb was starting to get tired of waiting for the kid to look away, what had it been already?... five minutes? Well, it didn't matter, he could hear that the others were almost done with the fight and decided to take the opportunity of the current silence to get a better assessment of the kid. He looked to be, what? 13?... no, maybe 12? It was hard to tell, the boy was so small. It looked like he hadn't had a good meal in a while, maybe ever.

He was definitely sharp and athletic, given his performance earlier with the crate and the chase, but obviously he didn't come out of it without a scrape. His right arm had a pretty long cut on it, blood was slowly running down his elbow and dripping onto the side of his shirt. It wasn't serious, but Hera would almost certainly fuss over him and clean him up. If Zeb had his way he would just let the brat patch himself up, but he knew Hera wouldn't hear of it and Kanan would just say to let it go and let her mother him.

Zeb suddenly felt the ship being pulled into hyperspace, he allowed himself to relax a bit, knowing that he wouldn't have to watch the kid anymore. He was about to look away from him when he noticed that something wasn't right, the kid... he was as white as a ghost! Sweat beaded the kid's ashen skin and though his face was still stoic and the boy's eye's still glued to him, they were cloudy and had glazed over, as if his mind was in another world.

Zeb frowned, ears going back in worry as he spoke, "Hey kid, you alright?" He didn't answer, it didn't seem like the kid had heard him. Confusion and concern flooded Zeb's mind, everything that the kid was doing, or more appropriately, what he was not doing, just didn't make sense. The silence, the stillness, and the way the kid's eyes never moved was just plain... unnatural.

The Lasat glanced away from the kid when he heard a noise up on the platform. Chopper, the astromach droid rolled in, beeped annoyingly to himself, probably complaining about something. The droid completely ignored them as he powered on his thruster and gently lowered himself to the floor of the cargo hold. Zeb's back straightened with interest, as he waited to see what would happen. How was the kid going to respond to a new presence?

Zeb watched with suspense as Chopper leisurely rolled by, waiting for the slightest reaction. The kid 's response was... nothing... he didn't even twitch! His eyes gave no emotional response whatsoever, it was as if he didn't even see the droid! Something was wrong, something was very wrong, he could feel it in the pit of his stomach. Zeb's shoulders tensed in trepidation, as he watched, looking at the kid as if he was seeing him for the first time.

Without warning, the kid's eyes closed and he collapsed onto the floor and just laid there, unmoving. "Kid!" Zeb rushed to the boy's side and coming to a crouch, his hands hovering over the kid in concern, but not daring to touch. His eyes scanned every inch of the kid looking for an answer for the sudden collapse, stopping on the child's right side, where his clothes where stained with fresh blood dripping from his arm.

Zeb's nose twitched, he could smell the strong scent of considerable amount of blood, but what was coming from the boy's arm was not enough to produced such a heavy, constant smell. Gingerly, he lifted the kid's arm away from his side with care most would not excpect from a giant such as Zeb and carefully lifted up the shirt. The Lasat inhaled deeply, a pit growing in his stomach as his eyes gazed upon the blue haired boy's side. Blood was leaking around a completely soaked gauze bandage, now what once seeped into the shirt was now dripping onto the floor.

From there he acted quickly and ran to the intercom. Then, unsure of what to do for a good few seconds, his finger stopped just over the button as he hesitated. Zeb just knew he was going to get blamed for this and get an earful from Hera and Kanan. Sighing, Zeb pushed the button and began a very awkward conversion. "Uh, Kanan?" Zeb with his ears folded back spoke with nervousness and uncertainty layering his voice.

Zeb waited and soon enough the ship's intercom buzzed to life as Kanan answered, sounding slightly annoyed, "Yes, Zeb, what is it?"

Zeb sighed running his hand in his fur atop his head, he was already regretting this conversation, but this was urgent "Is uh... is the kid important?"

"What?..." Kanan exclaimed in surprise. "Zzzeeebbbb, what did you do?!" Kanan asked slowly, his stern yet, concerned voice coming clear through the intercom.

Zeb answered quickly, "Nothing! He just passed out."

Hera, the ships captain, answered this time and her tone was full of warning, " Garazeb Orrelios if you..."

The Lasat, slightly angry, interrupted her warning, " I didn't touch the Loth-brat, I swear!"

Kanan exclaimed, "Zeb!" and then sighed before continuing wearily, " just get the kid to the medbay."

Zeb having now been given direction answered more calmly this time, but the urgency was clear in his voice, "Alright, meet me there...the kid... he's bleeding pretty bad." Zeb did not need to wait for an answer to know that they understood the situation and would be there ready to help. Instead, he swiftly picked up the bleeding child and dashed towards the medbay, ignoring Chopper's beeps of surprise as the droid followed him.

Zeb's ears twitched as he ran, honing his hearing on the kid's each and every breath. The kid was barely breathing! How had he not noticed earlier? With the room so quiet almost any species might have noticed, but Zeb had been so focused on not backing down from the kid's stare and his own thoughts, he hadn't caught on that something was wrong.

Zeb had no time to berate himself with his thoughts of guilt as he entered the medbay, though the feeling of regret still lingered in his chest. Kanan and Hera were already there prepping the medbay for whatever medical attention their young guest required.

Kanan almost stopped short when he saw Zeb, his ears flat against his head and his eyes silently pleading with them to use what knowledge he did not possess to help the pale youngling in his arms.

Shock raced through his veins, the child looked horrible, but how could this be? When not mere minutes before he had been in the same room with the kid, who had been glaring at Zeb and visa versa, looking ready to attack if provoked. How could this be the same boy? When Kanan first heard Zeb on the intercom, he thought the child simply had a minor cut and had either passed out from the sight of it or just been exhausted from the heat during the chase, or maybe even passed out from too much blood rushing to his head, but seeing Zeb, with their uninvited guest in his arms, sweat lightly dotting his skin and... Blood. So Much Blood. It covered the adolescent's side.

Hera was having a reaction akin to Kanan's, but with a lot more speculation going on in her mind. Kanan had given her a brief, if not vague, explanation of what had happened during the mission, only saying enough for her to know that they had...er "help" while hijacking the crates.

Though this was the first time she'd laid her eyes on the boy, Hera already felt he was one of their own and treated him as such, ignoring the sudden appearance of Chopper, she instructed Zeb to carefully put him on the sterilized bed before the Lasat solemnly went to the corner of the room out of the way, watching with worry and anxiousness. The blood soaking through the child's shirt was alarming, the amount of it was enough so for Hera to feel the need to appeal for more help.

"Chopper, go get Sabine, I'm going to need another set of hands."

Chopper made a series of beeps, protesting about why he had to be the one to go get Sabine, but speedily left the room none the less.

Kanan watched as Hera delicately lifted the boy's shirt up; what he saw surprised him tremendously, there was gauze completely soaked in blood wrapped around the child's torso. Gauze?The Kid had been wounded... no he was wounded the whole time! All throughout the chase Kanan never once suspected the boy was injured and yet, despite being injured, the fact that he had managed to throw them for a loop, was astonishing.

Hera signaled for Kanan's attention, removing him from his bewilderment and back to the business at hand. "Kanan, I need you to pull his shirt off. Zeb, hold him up. I need it off if I'm going to treat him properly."

Without a word the two males stepped up to the bed and proceeded as the Twi'lek had instructed. Zeb carefully held the boy up in a sitting position, while Kanan swiftly removed the shirt with as much care as possible.

Sabine and Chopper entered just as Zeb lowered the adolescent male with his strong, gentle paws back onto the sheets that used to be pure white, but now were stained with the boy's blood, making them damp and sticky to the touch.

The numbness that surrounded the crew felt as if it would never end as Hera retrieved scissors to cut the bandage. "Sabine, I'll need your help controlling the blood flow. When I cut this bandage do your best to stop the bleeding so I can examine how serious it is." Sabine nodded ready to assist her captains, but unbeknownst to them, as soon as the bandage was cut, everything was about to get a whole lot more complicated.

As Hera got on her knees she started snipping away at the cloth; not knowing that every snip, every cut, brought them closer to revealing to the galaxy this mysterious boy's greatest secret. With one final snip, the last of the cloth fell away and there was a beat... before the chaos ensued. Shouts were raised as Chopper shrieked in fright and quickly backed away trying to get to a safe distance. Sabine had jumped back from the child as if he was poison, eyes narrowing, as she simultaneously pulled her guns out and aimed them at the boy as if he were a wild animal about to pounce.

The males reaction was just as startling, they as well pulled out their weapons. Kanan aiming with a steady gaze at the boy while Zeb was in his battle stance, bow rifle in hand, ready to attack the instant he felt it was necessary, required or not.

Hera sucked in a breath, jerking violently away from the youngling in shock, her right hand barely catching her from hitting the floor. She slowly lifted a hand to her mouth as she stared at the young human's side.

The child was Marked! ... The Mark, The Mark of Death, The Brand of Misfortune,The Scar of Adversity, The Symbol of Hardship, whatever was the name you called it by. Every settlement, every planet, every system knew of this mark and they all had their own names for it, but everyone also knew it by its original name... The Emblem of Bloodshed.

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AUTHOR NOTE...

yeah, got nothing for this either, just tell me what you think and if you want tell me what you think will or should happen. also tell me my mistakes and all that jazz... welp... thats it. Empress signing out

GOD BLESS


	6. Chapter 6

Hey guys:) I just finished this chapter and I absolutely... hate it... OK I love it but then I hate but then I love it... but then hate it. I'll eventually decide whether I love it or hate it but meh. Anyway, during this chapter I wrote a one-shot, well... maybe a one-shot, I couldn't decide whether to use it in my story or just leave as a one-shot, and this sorta-one-shot can work both ways, so I decided to take a vote for those who want to see it anyway before I decide. But there's a catch. I will only be posting it as a one-shot for a limited time, then I'll take it down till I've decided what I want to do with it. So if you want to see it, in your review, type "FREEDOM" in all caps, but if you don't want to see it type "TOP-SECRET" in all caps, and please do it in BIG caps, please, oh please! My eyes get really distracted so if its not in big caps I'll get distracted by something, like a butterfly or my cat, (ooooh look, a speck of fuzz!... wait, what was I talking about?... right back to the entrance author note) then have a hard time finding it when I'm counting the votes. Anyway, hope you guys like the chapter :)

DISCLAIMER... There were no children harmed in the making of this chapter... except the writer who is now in therapy. (the writer) "words... so many words..."

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Facade

Chapter 6

Adrenalin. That was what possessed every single crew member. It coursed through their bodies, waiting anxiously to be released and wreck havoc on the unconscious teen. It's not surprising that their reaction was violent, if you knew the story behind the Mark you'd probably shoot the boy without a blink of an eye. Some would say its barbaric to shoot a child while they sleep, others would say it's necessary to survive. Whatever it was, the members of the Ghost were faced with such a decision... shoot the Marked one, or let him live.

Hera couldn't take her eyes off the Mark, not even while blood seemed to endlessly seep out of it and down onto the white sheets. She just stared at it, her mind kept flashing images of the destruction she had witnessed the small symbol cause, making her body go numb with cold. Hera was not just shocked to see it on the boy, no, she was downright terrified! Hera had seen a lot of things in her life that could make even the bravest being alive shrink in fear and yet she had never even faltered, but this time, in all her years alive, she was truly terrified.

Slowly, Hera reached for her gun at her side, her body seemingly working on its own accord as her hand trembled with anxiety. She had almost grasped it when she glanced at the boys face and stopped. The boy's face was scrunched up in pain as short, staggering, gasps escaped his dry, pink lips. His chest quivering in time with each breath while sweat and blood slowly trailed down his pale skin. He was just lying there, unconscious, completely helpless, and unaware of what was happening around him while he slept. His blue hair, drenched in sweat hung limply in front of his eyes, swaying slightly as air from the ventilation system blew calmly into the room. Then in that single moment, a bead of sweat ran down from the corner of the boy's eye and Hera could of sworn it looked just like a tear.

Hera slowly lowered her hand, no longer looking at the Mark, but at the child the Mark had taken hold of. He was just a kid, a youngling,... a child who hasn't even graced the world long enough to even be considered that he's lived a life.

A longing to protect him gently bloomed within her.

Blinking, Hera suddenly remembered her companions and before it even became a complete thought the words breathlessly left her mouth just above a whisper, "Stand down."

"What?" came the shocked voice of Zeb, whose fur bristled with agitation from the practically absurd statement. He was sure he had heard wrong and the others were thinking the same thing.

Standing up, Hera straightened herself, her posture displaying strength and seriousness as she put herself between her teammates and the boy, Hera looked at them with stern and commanding eyes, and repeated louder and with much more authority, "Stand down"

Now there was no doubt that they had not heard wrong. Hera was telling them to stand down, against all the they knew about the Mark. Everything within them, every bit of their instinct of self preservation, was telling them not to listen. All of them had heard of the Mark, of course they had, the legend was known throughout the galaxy, past down from one generation to the next, but only one in fifty thousand could say they had ever seen someone actually cursed with it.

The crew stood still, none of them moving, then Sabine and Kanan hesitantly lowered their weapons, feelingly unsure, but followed their captain's orders. Hera lightly bowed her head once at them in gratitude, silently thanking them for trusting her command, then turned her gaze towards Zeb who had yet to lower his weapon, his eyes showing the emotional war within him, trying to choose between his conscience... and harsh reality.

Then, Zeb slowly focused his eyes through the spec of his bo-rifle at the child. "Zeb, stand down!" Hera said sterner, apprehension steadily building in her chest, her lekku twitching as the uneasiness vibrated through the air.

" But e's Marked, Hera! You know what 'appens because of those that are Marked!" The Lasat argued, his voice slightly growling as his voice rose with agitation, his aim not moving from the boy as he stood his ground, posture rigid with trepidation at the "Threat".

Silence again entered the room, Kanan and Sabine watched anxiously as Chopper quietly chittered at their feet unsure of what to do, while Zeb and Hera exchanged a soundless argument both seemingly unwilling to back down.

Green eyes met green as Hera silently pleaded with her eyes for Zeb to listen to her, yet they flickered with ferocity as she spoke once again, "We will deal with him after the mission... stand down" her voice had been firm, but as she spoke those last two words her voice become as soft as a breeze, gently blowing across a field.

Zeb's grip on the bo-rifle tightened, his arms tremoring from the force he used, then relaxed as he slowly lowered his weapon, his ears falling back in acceptance and worry for the consequences that would surely follow this decision.

Hera breathed in relief, but it was short lived as she went back to caring for the boy, Sabine and Kanan silently coming to her aid without much thought, though their eyes betrayed their emotional unease.

Hera worked quickly, eyes scanning the wound, a good amount of blood was leaking out of... The Mark, but not enough to cause the boy to pass out and be so ill, so she look at his stomach and noticed bruising, most likely caused by blunt force trauma, and the graying of skin. Hera searched through her brain and came up with a frightening answer. Graying skin. Internal bleeding. The boy was bleeding internally and it wasn't just caused by the Mark, but more likely from blunt force trauma to the stomach area.

"He's bleeding internally, Zeb, I need to know if he threw up." she asked urgently, she needed to know where he was bleeding, if he was bleeding in the stomach she wouldn't be able to release the blood, but if he was bleeding in the abdominal cavity she could release the blood building up in his chest and stop it from putting pressure on any vital organs before they become damaged.

"No, 'e jest passed out... 'e jest sat there, looked kinda pale and out of it, then... passed out." Zeb answered, looking unsure of how to help, but telling what he did know as best he could.

Hera nodded and got on her knees in front of the bed for better access, then looking at Kanan she said "Kanan, hand me that scalpel, if he didn't throw up then there's a good chance he's bleeding in the abdominal cavity." now that she had an idea where he might be bleeding she could continue to proceed with caring for the child as best as she could

Kanan walked quickly to Hera's right side as he handed her the scalpel. He was about to return to the wall so he could be out of the way, but close enough to be there when needed, when Sabine spoke.

"But what if he's not?" she asked. Kanan paused mid-step, it was a startling question and one that could not be ignored. He watched as Sabine's purple and orange hair swayed as she knelt down on one knee next to Hera on her left side. Looking at the wound, Sabine's brow was slightly furrowed as she continued, "Then we'll just be cutting into his side for nothing,... Hera, if he's bleeding in the stomach instead we might not be able to do anything." Her face was grim as she said that, the tone of her voice serious, expressing that it was a real possibility. The chances of Hera being right were 50/50 and the chances of being able to save the kid were less then that if she was wrong.

The Mandolorian looked at Hera, her golden eyes glowing with intensity as she silently asked if Hera really wanted to continue and possibly make things worse.

Hera looked at her, she knew the chances were slim and without the equipment used for these sort of things there was just no way of being sure, but doing nothing was not going to change those chances. "We're just going to have to take that chance and find out. Sabine, go get me a tube to drain the blood while I sterilize the incision point. Kanan hand me the sterilizing solution."

Sabine nodded, no longer feeling the need to ask if it was a final decision, got up to go find the tube that Hera requested. Kanan moved to a cabinet in the wall then returned, handing Hera a big bottle filled with clear liquid. " Here."

"Thank you." Hera said as she took the bottle from him and set it on the ground beside her. She then proceeded to roll up her sleeves as she talked, " Kanan, I need you and Zeb to find towels, as many as you can, take sheets of the beds if you have to, oh and get a bucket."

Kanan nodded and left with Zeb who quietly grumbled about that they better not use his sheets or something along those lines when Sabine handed Hera a tube she had found, which, thankfully, Hera could tell it was cleanish (given that it was clear) and was probably used for medical purposes and not used for other things like a gas line, which is that last thing she would want to stick in the boy's side.

"Chopper!" Hera called, "Bring me that tin tray over there on the counter please." She asked as she examined the tube, it was about the size of the barrel of a medium size blaster and about as long as Hera's forearm, but it was usable.

Chopper grumbled a series of beeps in a whining question, till this moment he had been sitting quietly in the corner of the room, and obviously, given what he said, the rare moment of Chopper actually not causing trouble was officially over. "What do you mean, 'Do you have to help?!' Yes, of course you have to help! Now get me that tray and get ready to help me some more." Hera did not bother to look at Chopper who was shrieking loudly in indignation as he got the tray, his metal frame rattling in irritation.

Hera grabbed the tray from Chopper and briefly smiled at Chopper in appreciation as she set it next to her left side and put the scalpel, tube, and sterilizer on the tray. Just then Kanan and Zeb returned, both had their arms filled with towels and Zeb carried a single medium sized bucket. "We got as many as we can," Kanan said, handing Hera a towel or two before putting the rest on the bed. "Yea', and we got the bucket too." Zeb added, also putting towels on the bed.

"Good, put the bucket down here." Hera said, gesturing to the spot beside her on her right side. While Zeb put the bucket down, Hera took the bottle of sterilizer and proceeded to clean the tube and scalpel. Then she poured some of its contents onto a towel, and wiped her arms and hands, making them feel abnormally dry as the sterilizer eliminated unwelcome bacteria. Hera handed the towel to Kanan and he too, cleaned his arms and hands, before he handed it to Sabine who did the same.

Hera took a deep breath, it was time. Taking the sterilizer, she poured it all over the right side of the child's abdomen, burning her nose with how strong it was, and then set the rest aside. Taking the scalpel, she felt with her hand along the boy's side, speaking as she did so, "Sabine, when I make the cut, I'm going to need to find where he's bleeding and cauterize it. Go get the attachable mini-cam and connect it to the surgical laser, then bring it here."

Sabine nodded, retrieving the items quickly and surely, before she set it near Hera. From there things went by in a blur, Hera had made the cut and inserted the tube. Fortunately, Hera had been right, for when she inserted the tube, blood immediately began draining into the bucket, filling the air with its distinctive stench. First Hera made certain that she had drained all of the blood. Looking at the bucket they saw a surprisingly large amount of blood sitting in it. Working quickly, the twi'lek used the mini-cam on the laser to find where the bleeding was and she cauterized it. A small trail of smoke slowly rose into the air as she removed the surgical tool from the incision in the boy's side. The odor of the burnt flesh was awful, it made them want to gag as their stomachs turned.

They then worked on his... Mark, and stitched it up as best they could, before they wrapped his wounds in gauze and put an IV in his arm, replacing as much of the lost blood as they could with what little synthetic blood they had. Hopefully it would be enough.

After his vital signs stabilized, they left Chopper to watch him, and if anything were to happen or his condition change, he was supposed to come and get them immediately. Until then, all they could do was wait and continue the mission. Little did they know of what was to transpire during that time.

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You guys know the gist, read, review if you want, yada yada yada. Sorry that the chapter took so long, but here's something funny that shows everybody how writers feel, to make up for it.

What are we?

WRITERS!

What do we do?

WRITE!

When are we going to do it?

/distant sobbing


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